This Isn't My Room!
by Silverfern500
Summary: Locked together in a room by Alfred. How much worse could it get for poor Arthur with Francis on the prowl?


"You've got to be bloody _kidding_!" His accent getting worse as he raced to the door, Arthur skillfully thrust his foot in the gap before it could close on him. Alfred Jones, Hero, was wrenching the structure from the other side.

"I'm super sorry dude, but I didn't make the room arrangements…" He looked down a second, smiled and winked back. "Oh wait, I did!" And with that one quip, Alfred artfully kicked the Englishman's expensive loafer back inside, just long enough to force the door shut. He whistled as he locked it, extremely amused because it couldn't be opened from the inside, and he, the _Hero_, had the master key. He was so cool.

"Wanker!" Arthur cried, frantically trying the handle of his darkened prison cell, unable to look back at the devil slouching by the window. One blonde, grinning, Froggy devil.

"Ah, _mon petit lapin_, why are you trying to leave? What is so bad about spending the night with me?" Francis pushed himself off the sill, slinking over to slide his arm lazily around Arthur's narrow hips. That earned him a slap. As he put a hand to the welt, smirking, the shorter man visibly shivered and wrapped his arms protectively around his middle.

"Keep your filthy hands to yourself and we'll get along just fine," Arthur said through clenched teeth. Those lips were getting uncomfortably close to his neck.

"Oh, _mon cher_, why must you be so cruel? My, my. You always turn such a pretty shade of pink when I touch you…" Francis' hands stroked at the Brit's rib cage as he stalked behind Arthur, sitting on the _only_ bed in the room and pulling the other man down onto his lap.

Arthur turned cheek and mumbled something the Frenchman couldn't quite catch. "Optical illusion caused by…blood leaving…you're brain." His skin burned a little hotter. He didn't remember tampering with the thermostat. Perhaps he should open a window?

The shorter blonde wiggled a bit, trying to loosen the hold that the Frenchman had on his waist. That was a mistake. He knew that as soon as he felt the hot puff of air that hit the back of his neck. He just barely heard a whimper. Oh, _hell._

"Wh-what was that?" Arthur stammered, gently pushing Francis away. The man growled, dropping his hands to lay docile on his prey's thighs. An action Arthur wouldn't protest to. Unless one of those hands started to slip... "Oi, stop it!" He cried.

"_Angleterre_, whatever for?" One hand jerked his right thigh up while the other encircled his waist, damp breath suddenly at his ear. A shudder went down Arthur's body.

"Tell me what you're doing this instant!" Slightly scared now, the man dug his nails into Francis' left wrist. The attack was retaliated by a bite on his ear. Arthur pulled the hair falling over his right shoulder, and was instantly thrown back.

The Frenchman seethed. "Honest to Versailles, _mon_ _coeur_," he glared, "of _all_ things-"

"I'm sorry," Arthur apologized, touching Francis on the cheek. "I'm so, so sorry…" But now his predator had control of his hands and was flipping him onto the bed, towering over him. "And I can't believe I fell for that." The Englishman groaned. Was that _fire_ glowing in the other man's eyes?

"You're so…alluring when you're vulnerable." Francis leaned in close, taking an earlobe between his teeth and sucking, earning a moan from Arthur. Music to his ears. "You like that, don't you?" A thin, cold hand crept up the British man's sweater vest.

"Aaah! S-Stop that…"

"You don't sound very sure, _mon chou_."

"Don't call me your bloody cabbage!"

This was only answered with a lecherous grin and a rough tug at his shirt. "Off." After a moment's hesitation, he removed his favorite sweater vest. As he reached to loosen his tie, Francis stopped him. "This stays on."

Arthur swallowed thickly, but nodded obediently, slipping the buttons of his crisp white shirt out of their slots. Slowly, Francis slid his hand over the warm skin of Arthur's chest, biting his lip as he felt the other man's breathe hitch. The sensitive flesh beneath his fingers hardened into points and he moved his hands gently around the circle of his nipple. Arthur leaned into the cup of his lover's delicate palm. This made the Frenchman smile against his neck, tracing a line down to his naval, following it up with a trail of butterfly kisses from his collarbone, his tongue gracing the pink point uncovered then by his fingers, and landing at his soft stomach. Arthur held Francis' head tight to him.

Francis gave Arthur a quick hug from there before giving himself a higher purpose: removing the Brit's precious trousers. Undoing the button with nimble fingers, the Frenchman tugged down the zipper with his teeth, slipping his fingers under the band of Arthur's briefs. "Really, _cher_? Briefs?"

Arthur groaned. "Sh-shut up! Just because I like things to be neat…I bet you don't even w_ear_ knickers!"

"You know me too well," he said as he tugged down on everything that covered Arthur's lower half. "Want for me to show you?" His eyebrows wiggled slightly as he re-situated himself on the bed and on Arthur, clamping his knees on the Englishman's thighs and taking off his jacket and shirt while Arthur unzipped the frog's skin-tight jeans.

"Bloody hell, you couldn't even fit anything under these." Sure enough, Francis had nothing on under his form-fitting garment, much to the Brit's embarrassment. Yes, he had seen the Frenchie naked before, but this was…different. At least that was what he tried to convince himself of. Instead of the usual hate sex of the past, tonight was something more…binding. And Francis was definitely bigger than he remembered. Not that his pants had left much to the imagination.

"Like what you see, _mon lapin_?" Francis was met with a mumbled curse and a very flustered Arthur. But he swore he saw him nod. That was all he needed. Sliding down the Brit's skinny body, Francis opened his mouth ever so slightly, closed his eyes, and let his tongue envelope the hardened tip of Arthur's manhood. His lips crushed down and Arthur's back raised up ever so slightly with a gasp. Francis slid his lips farther down and his cock slipped as far in as it would go. Arthur moaned, not out of passion but out of fright that the Frenchman would stop. He did. Relieving his mouth of the flesh, he licked his teeth and his eyes burned into Iggy's. Needy hands gripped the stunned man's shoulders.

It would have been slightly disturbing to Arthur if he had been coherent, to know that Francis had lube nearby. But at the moment, he didn't give a flying mint bunny. He needed this.

The Frenchman's slick hand was cold as it probed the tight ring of muscle. Arthur tensed up. He still wasn't used to Francis moving so fast.

Soft lips pressed against Arthur's temple. "Shh. Relax, Arthur. You'll enjoy it soon enough." One finger slipped into the smaller man's body. It was a strange feeling, but not entirely unpleasant.

A second finger soon followed, gradually stretching him to let the third one in. But this still wasn't what he wanted. When the bulging member belonging to his life-long enemy penetrated him, Arthur cried out. Francis pushed all the way in and Arthur clung to him. Their mouths found each other and suddenly they were moving together as one in a time-old ritual. One thrust became four and they beat faster and faster like wound-up toys let loose. Gasping for air, biting and grinding and moaning.

"F-Francis!" Arthur yelped, legs around the taller man. He was reaching his climax. A short second away, Francis shivered with pleasure, filling Arthur, and collapsed. A white fluid burst out of Arthur once, twice, and it was done.

In the morning, Arthur awoke alone and handcuffed to the bed. Completely clean, and someone had changed the sheets, but he was entirely naked. A note sat on the lamp table with the frog's most sincere apologies written across it, but the Englishman's outrage was completely forgotten when a knock came at the door.

"Hey! Super-dude! French fry sent me to wake you up, can you hear me?" Oh, please, on the blessed Thames, no…. "I'm coming in!" The obnoxious American gleefully announced, pounding on the door until it gave way to a shocked Alfred.

"I can explain, you idiot..." Arthur began, trying to cover up his dignity.

A slow knowing smile crept up Alfred's face and he winked. "Nah, it's cool. Secret's safe with me."


End file.
